But do not, I beg you, on any account let the rascal inside
see or hear you."
I raced indoors, seized the sergeant's tuck and took his baldrick from
him, heedless of his vile threats. I left him there, choking with
foulness, unhitched Sultan, sprang into the saddle, and cantered up to my
friends.
"Now, Mistress Margaret," I said, "describe your father so that I shall
know him when I see him."
She sketched his portrait in broad, clear outlines, and I fixed the
description point by point in my memory.
"That's the road to Newcastle," said I, pointing along the edge of the
mere, "and it's fairly straight and good. Follow me there as quickly as
you can, and inquire for me at the 'Rising Sun.' I'll have news of the
Colonel, if not the Colonel himself, when we meet again."
I bowed to Margaret, dug my heels into Sultan, and was off like a flash.
CHAPTER XI
IN WHICH I SLIP
Sultan was a horse for a man, long and regular in his stride, perfect in
action, quick to obey, cat-like at need. I might have ridden him from the
day on which the blacksmith drank his colt-ale, for we understood each
other exactly, and I was as comfortable on his back as in my bed at the
Hanyards.
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